Chapter 24

At that point, a few people asked in disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"But we can't believe it. We've had princes come before, saying similar things. They all said they were here for us, but in the end... they all left after causing great damage."

Raymond tilted his head.

"Other princes have been here in the Bay Area?

It was the first he'd heard of it.

In any case, he didn't expect people to take him at his word.

I knew there would be some skeptics.

"I understand you don't believe me," I said, "so how about this?"

"...?"

Raymond pulled out his trump card.

"Deepest part of the slums here. Let's heal the patients on Chrysson Street."

"...!"

Horror spread among the slum dwellers.

"What, what, are you serious?"

This reaction was inevitable.

Because, on Crison Street in the slums, there is a....

"Yes, I will try to cure the patients cursed by the gods who live there."

"...!"

Because that's where all the people with the terrible disease called "God's Curse" are!

It was a place where people with a terrible disease gathered, so much so that even people from the same slum were reluctant to enter.

A murmur.

Turning to the slumlords, who looked at each other in bewilderment, Raymond spoke in a meaningful voice.

"If I manage to cure those cursed by that god, you will never again misunderstand my sincerity. Do you understand?"

* * *

There was another darkness in the bay district of the capital, the Maguul.

Chryson Street.

A place where patients with the 'curse of the gods' gathered to avoid people.

"Shi, God's curse. What if it's contagious?"

Hanson looked nervous.

"Don't they hide in the most obscure corners for fear of passing it on to others? It's dangerous."

None of them wanted to deal with the patients for fear of catching the curse from the gods.

But Raymond disagreed.

"It's not a curse, it's just a skin disease.

When he was younger, he had once encountered a patient who had been cursed by God.

According to conventional medical knowledge, it wasn't a curse. It was just a skin disease.

"I need to see if it's what I think it is.

If it was what I thought it was, it was easy to treat.

It was already medically treatable.

"If you're really worried, Hanson, you can stay here. I'll go by myself."

Raymond said this out of consideration for Hanson.

Without medical knowledge, Hanson would be worried about meeting a patient who was cursed by God.

But Hanson's response was again unintelligible.

"...No, I'll come with you."

"What? We don't have to go together."

"When you're putting yourself out there for patients like this, I can't just stand by and watch."

Hanson spoke in a strong tone, as if he had made some sort of a resolution.

"Senior... No, I will endeavor not to be an embarrassing disciple to Master."

"...."

Raymond made a dumbfounded face.

He didn't have such noble intentions at all, but he was sure he had misunderstood something.

Moreover, Master.

Wasn't that a title a disciple would use to honor a formal teacher?

"I don't want to be called ...Master. Let's go."

Raymond turned onto Chrysson Street.

Through the plaza, past the slum's seedy red-light district, and onto Chrysson Street.

It was a ramshackle shantytown with no one coming or going.

"Hello?"

"What... happening?"

Thin, malnourished patients greeted them with helpless stares.

Their faces and bodies were covered in red and black spots.

"Ugh."

Hanson drooled.

He'd been prepared, but the sight of the ugliness made him shudder.

Raymond, on the other hand, thought to himself.

"Spots with characteristic ulcers. That's a good bet for the disease!

Raymond opened his mouth.

"I'm a therapist."

"A therapist...?"

"Yes, I'm here to treat you.

The patients laughed hysterically.

"Cure us?"

"We're cursed by the gods, so what's a cure for us. Just die."

All hope given up.

There was no despair left in the voice.

"I don't know what the hell you're thinking, but I'm done."

"It doesn't work, go home."

They walked back to the shack, refusing to talk further.

The slumlords, watching Raymond from a distance, shook their heads.

"Healing someone cursed by the gods, no way."

"Foolish."

But Raymond didn't back down.

"I expected this reaction.

Raymond didn't back down.

As important as it was to win the hearts and minds of the slum dwellers, he felt compelled to treat these patients.

I felt sorry for them, thinking of all the suffering they'd endured over the years.

To do that, he needed to confirm that the skin disease was what he suspected it was.

[Heart of Steel is activated!]

[The 'Speech' skill is activated!]

[Will for the Patient enters your speech!]

"Are you really sure that your illness is a curse from God, why?"

The patient stopped in his tracks at the firm voice.

"...What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you sure it's a curse from God? Have you ever been to a proper healer?"

"...."

The patients were dumbfounded.

How do you think people in the slums ever get proper medical care?

They were told it was a curse from God, so they just assumed it was and gave up on life.

"It's curable enough.

Raymond couldn't help but feel bitter.

Here was a man dying in despair because of ignorance.

But this was not uncommon in Leipenthaina. There was no medical knowledge here.

There were all sorts of misconceptions and superstitions.

"I don't think your illness is a curse, do you? Why are you cursed? What sin have you committed?"

Was it his oratorical skills?

Raymond's voice struck a chord with his patients.

In all their years of despair, no one had ever told them.

The patients' voices cracked.

"Are you sure we're not cursed by God?"

"Yes, I think so, because there is no reason for you to be cursed."

The patients burst into tears.

"Go, thank you, healer."

"No one's ever told us that before. Hmmm."

Raymond said.

"Let's look at your wounds to get an accurate assessment, shall we? Do you mind if I look deep inside your body?"

"Yes, but?"

The patients were flustered.

More than embarrassed, they were worried about contagion.

But Raymond shook his head as if to say it was okay.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just observe you for a while."

"If I'm right," I said, "this disease is not spread by simple contact. So you don't have to worry.

But the unknowing patients were impressed by Raymond's dedication.

"You could catch it, but you don't care.

"How in the world is this healer?

"Is he some kind of angel sent down from heaven for us?

Not knowing the truth, it's no wonder they misunderstood.

And it wasn't just the patients who were impressed.

The people in the slums, observing from afar, were also deeply shaken and reflected.

"I think we... made a big misunderstanding about him."

"That's right. He's so willing to sacrifice himself for his patients. We didn't even go near him for fear of catching it."

The slumlords shook their heads.

The patients over there were their neighbors and family members, and they left them here to spread the disease.

But this noble prince from the land of the living, he didn't spare himself to help them.

I couldn't help but admire him.

"It's a shame that you couldn't recognize such a good man and disparage him like that."

"I think I owe you an apology."

Hanson clenched his fists.

Hanson seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into a misunderstanding as time went on.

[People are impressed and my reputation goes up!]

[You've earned extra skill points!]

With these messages ringing in his ears, Raymond examined his patients' wounds.

Then he spoke in a definitive tone.

"It's not a divine curse, it's just a disease."

"I, is that true?"

"Yes. The name of the disease is...."

Raymond said the diagnosis he had learned.

"It's called syphilis."

* * *

Syphilis!

It was a very famous disease in medicine.

It was spread through sexual intercourse, and its symptoms plagued patients for long periods of time, eventually leading to death.

'They were all working in the slums, in the brothels. The ulcers are consistent with syphilis.

Raymond thought.

"It's a little different, but it's a variant. It's a different world.

There were some differences between the conventional medical understanding of syphilis and what these patients were showing.

For example, syphilis on Earth doesn't have persistent spots, but rather fades and goes dormant after a period of time, whereas the patients here had no improvement.

Raymond saw the difference as a kind of variation.

Infectious diseases like this, even in the same world, vary greatly by era and region.

Furthermore, Earth and Leipenthaina are two very different worlds, so even the same bacteria and viruses can manifest themselves in different ways depending on the strain.

"Technically, it's a variant of syphilis.

It's worth noting, though, that the slum dwellers were particularly susceptible to the disease, which has been called a "curse of the gods.

It was thought that this was because people on the outside had somehow managed to avoid getting this bad with Hill's help.

"Anyway, even if there is a mutation, the underlying nature of the causative agent is the same, so the treatment is the same.

Then, Hanson said.

"Syphilis..., the ancients really knew their stuff. Is there a cure?"

"Yes. Bring me a bunch of moldy bread."

"That's ...?"

Hanson asked stupidly, and Raymond chuckled.

"To make magic bullets."

"Magic bullets.

It means penicillin.

The legendary elixir that changed the course of medical history, the one that could cure a strain of syphilis or anything else with a single shot.